


Bail Out

by americanhoney913



Series: The Lion and the Dragon [3]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Bayasha bailing Charlynch out of jail, F/F, dumbass gays, two wrestlers- one jail cell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 13:10:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18411308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americanhoney913/pseuds/americanhoney913
Summary: Sasha jots up from the bed a few minutes later when Bayley shrieks into the phone. It doesn’t sound like the usual Nattie-Bayley sounds, so something must be wrong. She jerks up in bed as Bayley rushes back into the room. Bayley shoves her bare legs into a pair of sweatpants, pulls on her bulkiest sweatshirt and pulls her hair into a ponytail.“Bay, what the fuck is going on?“ Sasha asks as she sets her feet on the floor, shivering as the cold air hits her bare legs.She quickly gets up when the brunette turns to her, thrusting a sweatshirt and sweatpants into her hands. “Come on, we gotta go get them!”****Post RAW April 1t 2019





	Bail Out

**Author's Note:**

> https://bexlynch.tumblr.com/post/183881577713/sasha-and-bayley-on-their-way-to-bail-out
> 
> Inspired to write this fic based on this post!
> 
> Note: I know nothing about the laws/legal stuff talked about in this fic. Like Bayley, I learned it all from Google.

The phone goes off just as Bayley’s plugging it in for the night and Sasha groans into her pillow. It rings out and then her ringtone blasts again.  _Dancing Queen_ , the movie version, not even the original, blasts through the room.

“Make it stop, Bay,“ she whines, reaching out over the covers to slap where she thinks the brunette’s thigh is. “It’s sleepy time. We’ve gotta be up early tomorrow. On the road the WrestleMania.” She waves her other hand above her head before it falls to the covers with a smack.

Bayley chuckles and shakes her head. She presses a finger to Sasha’s forehead, down her nose, and over her lips. “Go back to sleep. It’s just Nattie.” Sasha sighs and rolls over, snuggling down under the covers.

“Fine, but can you go in the other room? I know how much you and Nattie like to squeal at each other.”

Bayley leans over as she goes to leave, pressing a kiss to the sleepy woman’s forehead. “Be back soon. Keep my spot warm, m’kay?” 

Sasha grumbles, but just turn over and hugs the pillow meant for Bayley. She hopes Bayley comes to bed soon because she can’t sleep without The Hugger’s arms wrapped around her. Although she’d never admit that to anyone.

Sasha jots up from the bed a few minutes later when Bayley shrieks into the phone. It doesn’t sound like the usual Nattie-Bayley sounds, so something must be wrong. She jerks up in bed as Bayley rushes back into the room. Bayley shoves her bare legs into a pair of sweatpants, pulls on her bulkiest sweatshirt and pulls her hair into a ponytail.

“Bay, what the fuck is going on?“ Sasha asks as she sets her feet on the floor, shivering as the cold air hits her bare legs.

She quickly gets up when the brunette turns to her, thrusting a sweatshirt and sweatpants into her hands. “Come on, we gotta go get them!”

“Get who?” Sasha asks, but she struggles into her pants and shirt. She knows Bayley’s got a one-track mind at the moment, so she just goes along with it. She grabs the keys from the counter. If her girlfriend drives, there’s no telling what will happen.

“I’ll tell you in the car.” The brunette grabs her wallet and pushes Sasha out the door. “Come on, we gotta go.“

When they get to the car, Bayley’s practically vibrating with nervous energy. She finally gets the story out of her, that Becky and Charlotte, along with Ronda, got arrested at their match. The Creative team is treating this like they actually got arrested and the police station is demanding bail. So Bayley’s plan is to drive the two hours to bail Charlotte and Becky out, knowing Ronda’s husband will get her.

“They’ve got the money,“ Sasha argues, “why can’t they bail themselves out?”

“You can only bond yourself out with cash, so you have to have the exact amount on you... according to Google. Do you think they’ve got the cash on them for that?” Bayley retorts. “You know that Charlotte doesn't carry cash on match night and Becky’s only got like $20 on her at a time.”

“Do you know how much the bond even is?” Sasha runs a hand through her hair as she rolls to a stop at a red light. “ _ We _ might not have enough to bail them out.”

“It’s 10% of whatever they’re bond is, from what I’m reading.” She scrolls through some websites as Sasha pulls onto the highway. “Hopefully we can get them out before they kill each other.”

“Honestly, I don’t know what we’re gonna find. I’d be more worried about Ronda than the two of them.”

Bayley signs and leans against the window. She pulls up the WWE app and watches the highlights of the match. It’s hilarious, watching Charlotte and Becky “antagonize” each other, but it looks a lot more like flirting. 

Sasha looks over when Bayley giggles, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. “What?” she asks.

“They’re so dumb,” Bayley says in lieu of answering. “Ronda’s like a background character, even though they’re supposed to be a team. I guess it’s to see if they can get along before they fight against each other.” She waves her phone in the air. “Becky and Charlotte are literally just teasing each other. Strutting and just being dorks.”

“So, they’re acting like they normally would.”

“Yeah, but they’re supposed to be in a storyline feud.” She taps the button to close her phone and leans closer to Sasha. “Do you know what people say online about them?”

“Sorry I don't go looking up my friends online like you do,” Sasha retorts.

“You're just bitter about what people say about us,” Bayley says with a cheeky smirk, her dimples on full display.

Sasha blushes and turns her head to hide behind her purple hair. “Shut up.” She flicks on her turn signal to get off the highway and they head towards the jail their friends are still trapped in. “Five minutes.”

The brunette unclips her seatbelt and presses her face to the window. Sasha turns for a second to look at Bayley, all tousled brown locks and big brown eyes, the orange streetlights bathing her in a beautiful hue. Sometimes Sasha wonders if all those stars she wished on as a child led her to this women. It's more than holding the Tag Team Championship belt. It's being able to work with her girlfriend, to give someone else so much trust with her body and in turn, be trusted to do the same.

Before Sasha's realizes it, she’s parking the car and watching as Bayley zips towards the front door. She shakes her head at the brunette and follows at a slower pace.

The jail itself is small. It's obvious Creative wanted them out of the way so fans wouldn’t swarm the jail and make it hard for the officers to actually do their jobs. It's actually not even close to the stadium where the match took place. The walls are the same kind of white that Sasha remembers from her public school days before she became homeschooled. There's posters on the wall talk about drug and alcohol rehab programs, posted pictures of wanted criminals and sex offenders.

She pulls her sweatshirt tighter around her when she notices people looking, both police officers and those in handcuffs. She catches up to Bayley and grabs her hand. Because she's definitely not scared, but the brunette's eyes take in everything with a wide naive gaze. Charlotte used to tease her about being Bayley's guard dog, but Sasha could always counter that the blonde was the same way with Becky.

The Hugger smiles at her, before turning to the officer behind the counter. His skin looks gaunt and grey, bags making his eyes look even more tired. Sasha knows it's almost midnight and this man must be exhausted.

“Hello, um,” Bayley squints, “Officer Abrams.” She pulls her wallet out of her sweatshirt pocket. “Do you know how much the bail is for Charlotte Flair and Becky Lynch?”

Sasha shifts from side to side, tired and annoyed. She presses her body against Bayley's back and wraps her arms around the other woman's waist, putting her head on Bayley's shoulder. Bayley rests a hand over hers and sighs.

Officer Abrams taps a few keys and shakes his head. “We don't have those names on file. Are you sure you're at the right precinct?” He takes off his hat and rubs his grey hair.

“Yeah, this is the address,” Bayley says, showing him the address she'd needled out Hunter.

He nods. “Ah, you're looking for Ashley Fliehr and Rebecca Quinn. It's $250 for each of them.” He looks at the brunette. “Cash or credit. And are you getting them both or just one?”

Sasha steps back and puts her hands in her hoddie pocket. It feels strange to hear their real names but it makes sense if they're trying to play the whole thing up. Make it look like they got arrested for real. You ca't arrest smeone under a fake name.

“Both.”

“So $500 total.”

“Will this go on their record?” Sasha asks, fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve.

Officer Abrams shakes his head. “No, we had a deal with the network. Do everything as we normally do, but don't put it on their record.”

“Okay, so can they leave now?” Bayley asks as she puts her credit card back into her wallet. 

“We've just got to finish up their paperwork, but they should be ready in half an hour.” He gestures with his pen to some plastic chairs on the side of the room.

Bayley sits down and Sasha collapses into the chair beside her. She rests her head on the brunette's shoulder and closes her eyes. It's almost 1am and she'd just driven for two hours.

Just five minutes, Sasha thinks.

* * *

Becky glares at Ronda as she's led from the holding cell and down the hallway. She has nothing against the woman, but she's cold and her body aches something fierce. She just wants her nice warm hotel bed. She wraps her arms around herself and presses her back against the stone wall. It's not the best place to be, but this jail is actually nicer than some of the ones she remembers from Dublin. The key word there being remembered.

There's a huff from the bench across from her and Becky looks up to find Charlotte mirroring her glare at the brunette leaving the room. Then that familiar look turns to her and sparkling blue eyes scan her.

“Well…” Becky starts, “that was a success.” She shakes her head and chuckles. “We sure gave them a show to remember, eh, Charlie?”

The blonde smiles at her, but it doesn't reach her eyes. She turns away from Becky and begins to pick at some of the rhinestones on her ring shorts. Becky notices the goosebumps on Charlotte's skin and she begins to stand up. However, Charlotte puts her arms around herself and turns away.

She looks up when the jingle of keys echoes in the room. The man who led them back here, Officer Abrams, stands outside the holding cell. Becky knows they've gotten special treatment: quick processing, a private holding cell separate from the others, not having to be handcuffed. It's nice, Becky thinks as she rubs her wrist. With all the fighting they did while handcuffed, she's surprised her wrists aren't cut and raw. If she squints, she can see little cuts on Charlotte's delicate wrists. 

He smiles kindly at them and holds out a medium-sized grey wool blanket. Yes, Becky thinks, they’re definitely getting the special treatment. It’s nice to know that Creative cares about them… sometimes. But in the back of her mind, a tiny voice tells her that it’s really Hunter-- Papa H as Sasha likes to call him-- looking out for her and Charlotte.

Officer Abrams, noticing that neither woman makes a move to grab it, puts it on the bench near Charlotte. “To keep out the chill.” He steps back out and locks the door, even though it’s obvious Charlotte and Becky have no intention of escaping. “I might be able to find some tea in the back, if you’d like some.”

Becky stays silent, watching Charlotte for her reaction. She’s going to follow the other woman’s lead on this. The blonde looks so vulnerable at the moment, so small, and Becky just wants to take the blanket and protect her from the world. Charlotte perks up and smiles, turning to Becky for a second before it slips off and she shakes her head.

“I’ll take whatever you have,” Charlotte says, “but tea sounds amazing.” 

Officer Abrams glances at Becky, who nods at him with a smile, before he turns around and heads further into the precinct.

The air feels cold but Becky wants to change that. She takes a deep breath and moves over to where the blanket sits, positioning herself on its other side. She pushes it towards the blonde. “Take it,” the redhead mumbles, not looking at the other wrestler.

“I’m fine.” Charlotte rubs her arms and turns her body away from Becky. The redhead uses the fact that Charlotte can’t see her to take inventory of her injuries. She knows that Charlotte’s shoulder must be hurting because she keeps rubbing it. She’s got a smattering of bruises along her back as well, along with a big purple blotch that wraps around her hip and down into her blood red ring shorts.

“Charlie…” When she gets no response, Becky tries again. “Charlotte.” The blonde’s shoulders hunch, but she doesn’t move except to shiver. “Charlotte Flair, you listen to me.” Becky runs her hand through her hair and shakes her head. She stands up, grabs the blanket from the bench, and stomps her way over to stand in front of Charlotte, who still won’t look at her, and kneels down. Becky unfolds the blanket and, even though the blonde tries to protests and shoves it away, wraps it around her. “You listen to me, lass. I’m not gonna let ya freeze yer pretty little ass off so you can be noble.” She holds the blanket closed when Charlotte squirms, pressing her fists against the fabric like she’s trying to break out of a cocoon.

Becky puts her hands on Charlotte’s knees and slides them up her thighs, not in a sexual way, but she knows she needs to get the blonde’s attention. From the minute glances up, she can see Charlotte’s flickering back and forth between being present and being somewhere, anywhere, else. It seems to jolt Charlotte out of her haze and blue eyes focus back on her, blinking rapidly. 

Oh, god, Becky thinks. She knows what's happening; Charlotte, and even herself sometimes, get caught up in that in-ring high and then there’s the drop after the adrenaline wears out. Becky’s comes as silence, as clinginess, as the need to curl close to whoever, usually Charlotte, and just be. Charlotte, on the other hand, falls hard; she won’t let anyone take care of her unless she really needs medical, will isolate herself and tear herself apart for every single thing she thought she did wrong during any match (even if she won).

“I’m sorry,” Charlotte says.

“Why’re you sorry, lass?” Becky asks as she reaches up and runs a hand down the apple of Charlotte’s cheek.

“I don’t...” The blonde shakes her head. “I don’t know.” She covers her face with her hands, folding the blanket over her head to hide herself. Becky chuckles and pulls open the cocoon so that one sapphire eye peaks out at her. “I just… fuck, I feel like I’m taking everything from you.” She shakes her head, making the wool scratch against Becky’s cheek. “This was supposed to be  _ your _ match against Ronda.” 

“Well, lass...” Charlotte giggles when Becky moves forward and presses into the blanket so they’re noses are almost touching. “I don’t give a shit about that.  _ The Man _ might give a shit, might be angry and bitter and hate your guts, but  _ I _ could never hate you. Sure, I hate Creative, and I hate what they’re making us do, but I could never  _ never _ hate you.”

Charlotte sniffles, wipes at her eyes with a fist, and presses her forehead to Becky’s. “Sometimes I wish you’d hate me. It would be easier to beat you up.”

The redhead shoots her a cheeky smile. “Now there’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one, lass.” She brushes a strand of hair behind Charlotte’s ear before pulling back and sliding onto the bench next to her. “Now, it seems we’re gonna be in here for a while, so why don’t you take a rest on these here boulders.” She shrugs her shoulders and Charlotte rolls her eyes. 

However, the blonde rests her head on Becky’s shoulders before shaking her head. “Nope, not gonna work right now. My body hurts too much to sleep sitting up.” Without prompting, she slides down the bench and rests her head on Becky’s thigh. “Perfect,” she breathes.

“Sleep, lass,” Becky whispers as he runs her hands through Charlotte’s golden mane. Charlotte sighs and closes her eyes, lashes fluttering against her cheek. Her breathing slows down as Becky beings to hum and then mumble an Irish lullaby. The redhead rests her head against the wall and closes her own eyes.

* * *

Officer Abrams walks up to the window and taps a stack of paper against the desk. “Um,” he squints at one of the papers, “Bayley? We’re all ready to release them.”

Sasha grumbles and sits up, pressing kisses to Bayley’s forehead. “Bay, we gotta get Becky and Charlotte.” The brunette mumbles. When Sasha checks her phone, she sees its almost 2am and they’ve got a full day of travel tomorrow… today… Fuck. “Bayley, once we get them we can go back to the hotel.” There’s no way she’s gonna be awake enough to drive the two and a half hours it takes to get back to their hotel.

Bayley hums, but sits up, wipes her eyes. “Okay, but I don't think we’re gonna make it back the hotel. We’ll just crash with Becky and Charlotte ‘n go home in the mornin’.”

“Okay, babe.” Sasha pushes Bayley up and then stands up, pressing against her back. “C’mon. Let's go get our girls.”

Officer Abrams smiles at them when they make their way to the door. “I’m not usually allowed to do this, but since they aren’t actually criminals...” He buzzes them in. Sasha walks in front of Bayley, holding her hand and pulling her along. Thankfully, they turn before the loud clanging and shouting of the actual criminals and go to the left.

“Please don’t let it be a bloodbath. Please don’t let it be a bloodbath. Please don’t let it be a bloodbath,” Sasha hears Bayley whisper behind her, over and over again. 

But there’s no trail of blood, no screaming, so swearing. Instead, it’s silent. 

And, honestly, Sasha thinks, that might be worse.

“I was going to make them some tea,” Officer Abrams said and Bayley’s snort turns into a cough. He gives her a weird look. “But, well, you’ll see.” He unlocks the door and steps aside so they can see the aftermath of whatever happened to make the always-talkative duo shut up.

Sasha peaks her head inside and gasps. “Bay… look.” She tugs on Bayley's hood and turns to her with a beaming smile.

Becky’s resting against the wall, one arm over her eyes and the other tangled in Charlotte’s hair. The blonde’s laid out on the bench, a blanket covering her shoulders and torso, her long golden legs exposed and hangining off the edge of the bench. Her head’s resting in Becky’s lap, nose pressed against the redhead’s stomach.

Sasha jolts when Bayley begins bouncing up and down behind her, a tiny squeal coming out until Sasha slaps her hand over Bayley’s mouth. “Shh,” she hisses. Then brunette glares, but takes out her phone and snaps a few pictures. “What are you doing?”

“I don't know, dude” Bayley counters. “Becky's got some of us sleeping, so don't complain.”

“Wait, what?”

Bayley shakes her head and ignores Sasha, stepping further into the room. She kneels down next to Becky's knees and puts a hand on one. “Becky… Bex, wake up.”

“Mhhhm, five mo’ minutes, Charlie.” Becky pushes Bayley's hand away.

“It's Bayley, sweetie,” she tries again. “Come on, up you get.” She pulls on Becky’s arms and Sasha watches on in amusement. Sometimes she wonders how Charlotte was ever able to wake the Irish woman up for morning interviews.

Becky's eyes flutter open and she squints at the brunette. “Bayls,” she mumbles, smacking her lips together, “what’re ya doin’ ‘ere?” She rubs a fist over her eyes and grumbles. Sasha covers her mouth to hold in her laughter. Bayley shoos her away and Sasha knows to go grab the car, put the heat on, get it ready for the two sleepy warriors

She’s got one foot out the door when she hears Charlotte beginning to wake up. “Becks, tell ‘em to go ‘way,” the blonde mumbles as her hand flounders around, almost whacking Bayley in the face.

“Okay,” Sasha says, throwing her hands up, “I think you can handle ‘em, babe. I’m gonna go get the car.”

“Fook you,” Becky shouts, throwing up her middle finger.

“Okay, here’s the game plan,” Bayley says as she stands up. “We’re gonna go to the car, drive to the hotel, and you two can keep sleeping.” 

She rips the blanket off of Charlotte, who yelps and pushes up to glare at Bayley. Her eyes go wide when she realizes Bayley’s actually standing in front of her. “Holy shit,” she says. “What the fuck, Bayls?” 

Becky, on the other hand just keeps mumbling and smacking her lips as she falls back asleep.

“Look, I know we’re all exhausted,” Bayley says, her voice full of sympathy. “But we need to leave. The nice officer is letting you go, so let's get outta his hair, okay?”

Charlotte nods and wipes at her eyes. “Sorry,” she rasps. “I’ll get Becky. No reason we both have to wake up.” The blonde stands up and Bayley goes to the door as Charlotte reaches down and pulls Becky to her chest, carrying her bridal style. Becky curls into the blonde and Bayley chuckles as she hooks her hand into the low v-cut of Charlotte’s ring top, snug in between her breasts. “Not a word to Sasha.”

“Oh, I’m not tellin’ her, dude,” Bayley says before he whips out her phone and takes a picture. “But it’s great blackmail.”

“‘F ya show that to  _ anyone _ , I’ll murder ya,” Becky speaks up. “I know how to kick ass.” She turns back to press her face against Charlotte’s chest, right in her cleavage, like she's going to start motorboating the blonde at any second.

“And you do it very well, boo.” Charlotte taps her finger against the Irish woman’s nose, even as she laughs at the redhead's crazy antics. 

Bayley ignores the two of them and their weird flirting. Instead, she holds open the door and leads them to where Sasha’s waiting in the car. The purple-haired woman's got some soft music on, crooning women and soulful acoustics.

Bayley helps Charlotte slide in the back without losing her grip on Becky before she gets into the passenger seat.

“Take us home, babe,” she says to Sasha as she puts her own hand over the other woman's on the gear shaft.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this mess of a fic. I hope you guys liked it! Please let me know what you thought!
> 
> Charlynch has really lit a fire under my ass. I've never written this may fics (three in four days!). So hopefully the momentum continues because I have so many fics to write for these two.


End file.
